


The Prison Visit//Aaron's Perspective - Robert and Aaron (16th March 2017) (canon compliant)

by BoleynC



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Drugs mention, aaron's perspective, because I thought we could do with that, obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 07:38:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10355427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoleynC/pseuds/BoleynC
Summary: The prison visit between Robert and Aaron on the night it all goes wrong, from Aaron's perspective.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've already done this from Robert's POV and so I thought I ought to do it again from Aaron's. There's a lot to delve into with both of them because they're so complex. I hope I've done Aaron justice!
> 
> Please leave me a comment if you enjoyed this!

Aaron can’t wait to see Robert. He’s been desperate for this moment all day. It’s what he’s been clinging to through the night.

He's herded into the room with the other prisoners, none of which look him in the eyes, as though they think he's going to try and jump them or something. Nobody wants to so much as smile at him these days. Not since Jason marked him out as a target. Only Ethan ever talks to him properly, and that's in the safety of their cell. Ethan's somewhere in the line with him now, but Aaron knows better than to expect any sort of acknowledgment from the man he's currently living alongside. It's a lonely feeling, being avoided like the plague, like he's contagious or something. 

Things are still bad, but it's better now that Jason has a use for him. Now he serves a purpose he can at least know he's not going to be beaten to death by a group of randoms any second. It's a possible scenario, Aaron knows, because the guards clearly aren't the ones running things here. He's seen the way they look at Jason. They're just as scared of him as everyone else. 

Aaron's third in line as the men are released to their nearest and dearest. Aaron looks around the room lets out an involuntary sigh of relief at what he sees. There Robert is, sitting at that little visitor’s table looking just as handsome and out of place as always. _My husband_ Aaron thinks, as he shuffles over to the table, determined not to have Robert notice that his ribs still ache and he can’t walk properly because of the bruises. 

Robert’s wearing his maroon cardigan and purple shirt. It’s honestly a hideous combination, but Aaron’s comforted by the familiarity. Robert could wear a bin bag and look gorgeous. Aaron still can’t quite believe his luck in being married to him. 

Before Aaron sits down he glances behind him. He thought he could sense someone walking too close, getting into his space, but luckily he’s mistaken. He can’t be too careful at the moment. Not even with his newfound 'job'. He doesn’t think anyone would try something in front of the guards and visitors, but he doesn’t want to take any chances. Not when he can’t fight back properly, and especially not while Robert’s there to see it. 

Smiling with relief Aaron pulls up a chair and sits down opposite Robert. He’s safe for now. He can have this moment, savour it. 

“You all right?” Robert asks him, his tone casual. 

It’s different, seeing Robert in person, than talking to him on the phone. He misses the small mannerisms, the expressions Robert makes, the posture of a man who’s slightly too tall and lanky for the ridiculous plastic chairs they make them sit on, but is going to make himself at home in the space regardless. 

“Yeah, sweet,” Aaron answers. He’s about to smile again but a clattering from beside him makes him pause. It’s okay. It’s not Jason or any of his lot. It’s just another guy pulling up a chair and sitting down. He doesn’t want Jason anywhere near Robert.

Aaron takes a deep breath to steady himself. He can’t be looking scared in front of Robert. He doesn’t want to worry him. 

“So what was yesterday all about?” Robert asks. 

Aaron doesn’t want to talk about yesterday. Aside from anything else it’s too complicated. Aaron’s brain isn’t doing complicated very well right now. It’s foggy, muted, but ever so slightly heightened at the same time. 

“What?” Aaron asks, pretending he doesn’t understand the question. 

“I came to see yer, and they sent me packing,” Robert explains calmly. 

He knows he should have thought some excuse up before the visit, but there wasn’t time. He’s got hours and hours of nothing to do, and yet being on high alert twenty-four seven doesn’t leave much opportunity to think clearly. He can’t even relax when he uses the filthy adjoining room which passes for a bathroom in here. Jason’s come for him in there before. The rules are different on the inside, and you’re always fair game. Always. 

“Oh yeah, erm, summat kicked off,” Aaron says vaguely, hoping against hope that Robert will drop this. He turns to where Jason is sitting out of habit, the gesture furtive in case Jason realises he’s being watched. He needs to know that Jason’s out of the way for a while. He has to actually see him sitting there with his visitor to be sure. 

“What?” Robert asks. 

He can’t tell Robert about the drugs. There’s no way he can do that. He knows Robert won’t understand, and in order to make him do just that, he’d have to tell his husband about Jason and the beatings and the constant, constant abuse. Aaron can’t put that extra weight on his shoulders, not now. It’s not like there’s anything Robert can do to stop it, anyway. 

“I dunno,” Aaron says with a shrug, doing his best to look casual, like the whole thing is distant, an uninteresting bit of gossip. “It was a fight, nothing to do with me.” 

It’s not a complete lie. There are always fights on the inside, and those are the good days. There probably _was_ a fight yesterday. 

“So everything’s cool?” Robert confirms.

“Yeah,” Aaron agrees quickly. He just wants the subject to be passed over. This time with Robert has to be separate, special. It can't be tainted by whatever's going on in the meantime, in the long hours and days between Robert's visits. 

“There’s nothing you need to tell me?” Robert pushes. 

Aaron gives a shrug and shakes his head. There’s nothing he _needs_ to tell Robert, no.

“It’s just prison, innit? What’s there to tell?” 

He takes another steadying breath and then exhales as his vision momentarily blurs. He’s not sure if it’s from the Spice, the the sleep deprivation, or just plain stress. He’s barely slept. The previous night was a tough one, even if he was getting used to sleeping without moving, so he wouldn’t wake himself up by accident from the pain in his ribs. In some ways he supposes it was a relief. Every night he does manage to sleep he has nightmares, mostly about his father. This place is so tied to him that Aaron feels like he can’t escape the man that destroyed his childhood. He feels like he’s trapped in here with him.

“If there’s any kind of problem, you know I’d understand-“ Robert tries. 

Aaron doesn’t like this. It feels too much like an interrogation, like he’s on trial all over again. He wishes Robert wouldn’t keep scanning his face like that. He can see concern in his husband’s eyes and Aaron can’t deal with it. Pity isn’t going to do him any good in here. He can’t afford to feel sorry for himself, and Robert’s just making everything worse. 

_Why’s he doing that?_ Aaron asks himself. _Why’s he treating me like a kid? Why’s he ruining our time together when it’s all I’ve got?_

“Robert, what is this? I’m fine, stop worrying,” Aaron insists, looking down at the ground where his foot won’t stop tapping. He can’t make it stop either. He has to keep moving. He can’t be still. Being still makes everything worse. He can’t get comfortable sitting here. It’s too hot and too crammed in. He’s sweating underneath his prison assigned sweater but he needs it to cover his body, to cover the bruises. He doesn’t think the guards will like it if he takes it off, either. He can’t get in trouble again. 

“Aaron, I’m giving you the chance to be honest with me here," Robert says after a moment, and to Aaron’s shock he’s all but forgotten he was there. It’s distressing, to have checked out like that, all the more so because he needs to zone back in again and fast. He doesn't even know how long he's drifted for.

Aaron shuffles in his seat, trying to ground himself, but it’s getting harder and harder to focus. He’s sweating cold, trying his best not to start shivering. He should have taken something this morning. Without anything in his system he’s crumbling. He’s embarrassed in front of Robert. He wishes his head would stop pounding. 

“Liv’s got herself suspended,” Robert reveals, his voice breaking through the fog. 

He can’t think up the right response. Liv being suspended is bad. He loves Liv. He adores her. But for some reason he can’t make himself show it.

“Well it was bound to happen one day,” he mumbles, thinking about his last visit with Liv, about how she knew about the drugs. He feels guilty about that, but if he’s honest his hands are tied. Being in here has changed the way he sees the world. He was never an optimist to begin with, but in prison you learn fast that bad things will happen and you can’t stop them. You have no control. All you can do is focus on each day, each moment. It’s the only way you can get through it. Liv is distant, but Liv is safe. It won’t do anyone any good if he kicks off about it. 

He can feel Robert’s eyes on him. It’s making him edgy. 

“Is that all you can say?” Robert demands, eyes starting to show signs of anger. 

Aaron shrugs his shoulders again, fiddling with the material of his sweater under the table almost compulsively. 

“Well what d’ya want me to do?” Aaron asks. “I’m stuck in here.” 

“Don’t you want to know why?” Robert tries, still wearing that face, that awful face, the one that Aaron hates. He’s looking at him like he’s an alien. It makes him want to run from the room. 

He knows he’s not thinking straight. He’s not an idiot. Aaron makes an effort to seem more interested, more connected to the conversation, to the room in which he’s sitting.

In reality he feels like he’s floating away. 

“Yeah, ‘course,” Aaron says swiftly, looking down at his knees with shame. “Sorry, go on. What happened?” 

“Well what’s the point in telling you?” Robert asks irritably . “You’re not really listening.” 

The way he says that is like an accusation. Aaron’s eyes narrow. He can feel anger bubbling up from his stomach. The anger comes quickly these days, out of nowhere and in a split second. 

“Have you just come in ‘ere to have a go at me?” Aaron demands. 

“No, I’ve come in here to try and sort you out,” Robert responds. 

Sort him out? That’s typical Robert, patronising him. Having to be in control. Having to be involved in everything. 

“And what needs sorting?” 

“You tell me,” Robert says. 

Aaron swallows and rocks forward a little in his chair. He doesn’t want an argument. He doesn’t think he can take one of those, and so he backs down, pushing back the frustration. 

“Look, I’m sorry you got turned away yesterday, but the whole prison was on lockdown,” Aaron lies. It’s the first thing that comes to his head. He thinks he’s heard the phrase in a film before. 

“Was it?” Robert asks, in that condescending voice that makes Aaron want to sink into the ground. “Then how come I was the only one that got sent home?” 

The fog is back. It’s returned at the worst possible time. Aaron needs to think clearly in order to put Robert’s mind at rest, but all he can do is fidget and try not to scratch at his own skin. He knows Robert will notice if he does anything like that. He knows Robert won’t like it. 

“What?” Aaron mutters. 

“Everyone else was allowed their visit,” Robert clarifies, like he’s talking to a stupid kid. 

Of course they were. Aaron wants to kick himself for forgetting. It’s not like he has any friends in here to swap stories with, and he’d been held in solitary for hours yesterday while the visits took place.

Robert is staring at him expectantly. 

“Well yeah, well I… I…I… got into a bit of a barney with…a- a guard,” Aaron answers, desperately trying to string a coherent answer together. He tries to make it sound less worrying than it is. A bit of a barney sounds better than admitting that he kicked off big time and got chucked in a monitored cell while his bunk was searched.

“Why?” 

Aaron doesn’t see why Robert has to know every detail. It’s making his temper flare again. Robert doesn’t have a right to judge him for what goes on inside. He doesn’t know the half of it. 

“Cause he doesn’t like me,” he answers, even though that’s not strictly true. The regular guard out on Aaron’s wing is a decent bloke. Looking back Aaron regrets the way he spoke to him and got in his face. 

“Then make a complaint,” Robert suggests, only it’s not really a suggestion. It’s another accusation pretending to be something else.

“It’s not worth the hassle!” Aaron hisses, slumping back in his chair and only just managing to contain a wince. There’s a nasty bruise on his lower back which gives him trouble when he’s sleeping, but most of all kills him whenever he wants to sit down. He always manages to forget about it and get a horrible surprise a couple of times a day. 

“Or maybe you don’t have a leg to stand on?” Robert points out, bleakly.

It feels like betrayal, having Robert tell him off like the teachers at his old school used to when he got into bother. He can’t believe that Robert can just sit there and judge him like that when he has _no clue_ what the reality is. The distance between them is growing and growing, and it’s happening by the second. 

“How much trouble are you in?” Robert asks quietly as a guard passes their table. “Do they know?” 

“Know what?” Aaron hisses back. 

“Know that you’re pumped full of drugs?” 

Aaron feels sick. His entire body is on fire. He knows this is guilt and not the withdrawal. Being caught in a lie is a terrible feeling, a shameful, nauseating feeling. He’s starting to panic now. 

“Why are ya saying that?” Aaron demands. 

“Stop treating me like an idiot,” Robert breathes out lowly, closing his eyes as the words leave his lips. Aaron hears the warning there. He knows he’s in trouble. 

All this time he’s thought he was sitting here with his husband because they love each other, but now things are becoming clearer. Robert’s here to have a go. He knows about the drugs and he’s been digging for proof all along. He’s been waiting for him to slip up the whole time. 

“I haven’t taken anything,” Aaron asserts, looking Robert dead in the eyes. He can do this because it’s not a lie. He hasn’t taken anything for a day because it’s been too risky, what with the guards doing a search on his cell and keeping an eye on him. 

“Yeah, maybe not today,” Robert concedes grimly. “But look at yer. Just look at yer. You’re desperate for a fix, aren’t yer?” 

So Robert thinks he’s some druggie, does he? Is that how little his own husband thinks of him? That he’s addicted already? That he can’t take smoking a few joints? 

“I don’t know where you’ve got that idea from,” Aaron insists, temper flaring again. 

“Just stop it,” Robert pleads, eyes closed. “Liv’s told me everything. What the hell are you playing at?” 

The truth is that Aaron doesn’t know himself. All he does know is that life is different on the inside. People are different. And that Robert wouldn’t understand.  

He’s sweating again, his chest pounding. His foot’s decided to continue tapping on the floor, this time in a more frantic rhythm. 

Robert’s once again looking at him like he’s an alien and Aaron can’t take it. 

He covers his face with his sweater sleeves for a moment, buying himself a second to try to keep everything down. He wants to hide, like a kid would. But he can’t do that forever, and so he ends up crossing his arms on the table, almost hugging himself for comfort. 

“I don’t know why Liv said that,” Aaron tries, refusing to back down and admit everything. 

“It’s probably cause she smelled it on yer,” Robert says bluntly. 

Smelled it on him? Aaron has the urge to sniff himself and check. He can’t smell anything on him but Robert’s own poncey shower gel. It’s running out already even though he's been using it sparingly and Aaron had been planning to ask Robert for more, but he won’t do that now. Not while Robert’s in this mood. 

“She’s not an idiot and nor am I,” Robert adds. 

It’s Aaron who feels like the idiot. He doesn’t know why he even tried to lie to Robert in the first place. Now he looks stupid, ridiculous. He feels so embarrassed he wants to cry. 

_No. Don’t you dare cry_ , comes a voice in Aaron’s head. _Don’t you give any of them the satisfaction. Keep it together._

“I knew you’d get like this and that’s why I told her not to say anything,” Aaron mutters, eyes watering against his will. He’s ashamed of having dragged Liv into this. He’s even more devastated by the fact that Robert _knows_ he’s done this. He’s going to think he’s a waste of space. No brother at all. He looks like the lying, selfish junkie Robert clearly imagines he’s become. 

“Don’t blame her,” Robert snaps. “She’s all over the place. She’s been drinking, she’s been hitting people… The school have completely turned their back on her.” 

This is the most difficult visit Aaron’s had so far, the most difficult piece of information. He can’t bear to think of Liv, his tough nut little kid sister, going to pieces. It’s too much like history repeating itself. It’s like a family curse. 

Aaron chews distractedly at his sleeve and then his fingernail, not quite able to decide what to do for the best. The urge to hurt himself is strong. The need to smoke another joint is stronger. 

“And that’s all down to you,” Robert continues. 

Does Robert think he doesn’t know that? That he doesn’t realise? Doesn’t care? Does his husband have no idea how useless he feels locked in here? 

“Well she’s hard as nails, she’ll be fine,” Aaron mumbles, trying to convince himself this is the case. Liv’s faced far worse than this. She has to make it through. Of course she will. He did. 

“No, she’s not,” Robert corrects him, misinterpreting his shame for negligence. “She’s a kid and she’s worried sick. And so am I come to that.” 

Not a word leaves Aaron’s mouth. There’s nothing he can say to make that better. What does Robert even expect? Does he think he can wave a magic wand and fix everything? 

“Don’t we mean anything to you?” Robert asks, suddenly, terribly. 

“Yeah,” Aaron breathes out, his response instant. He doesn’t understand how Robert can even question this. It hurts that he has doubts. Robert and Liv (and Chas and Adam and Paddy) are Aaron’s whole world. They’re his _family_. “Okay? I’m sorry.” 

“You’re supposed to be keeping your head down while I sort out your appeal, not getting off your face,” Robert says bitterly. 

Aaron looks around nervously, scared of being overheard. It’s like Robert doesn’t care if a guard hears and he ends up in solitary again. It’s almost like Robert thinks he deserves it, as some sort of punishment. 

“Relax!” Aaron hisses. “It’s not a big deal.” 

“What?”

“In here, everyone’s on something,” Aaron explains quickly, desperate for Robert to understand this world he’s found himself in, how it operates, how the goalposts have shifted. It’s all well and good coming from the outside and casting judgement, but on the inside it’s hell. It’s all about survival, about getting through the day. 

He can see that Robert doesn’t believe a word of it, so he decides to elaborate. 

“Yesterday they found some stuff in my cell but it was practically nothing and I managed to convince them that it was nothing to do with me, it wasn’t mine. So everything’s fine now, they can’t prove anything.”  

It comes out in a guilty rush. Aaron knows he’s not at his most articulate, but even he can hear how pathetic that sounded, how much like a cowardly excuse. 

“What’s happened to you?” Robert asks, staring at him with horror. 

Aaron doesn’t know. He can’t answer that one, and he knows he’s not supposed to anyway. 

He’s getting twitchy again, his body screaming for a fix, just like Robert pointed out earlier. It’s the stress. He craves that moment of peace when the drug hits, however fleeting it is. He doesn’t want to have to think anymore, to face the reality of his life. 

Why can’t Robert understand that? Why does he have to be such a condescending, judgemental git? It's not like he’s an angel himself. He’s no innocent. He’s done far worse in his time than smoke a few joints to get by. 

“You’ve got no idea what it’s like in here, to be banged up!” Aaron hisses, leaning forward and baring his teeth with anger. He wants to hit Robert, to lash out. He wouldn’t do it, not even if he was on the outside, but the urge is still there. It’s the look on his husband’s face that he can’t take. He’s clearly got no idea. He just _thinks_ he knows it all, like always. 

Aaron can feel the spite rising but he doesn’t push it back down. 

“Cause you’ve never been banged up,” he continues, snarling. “Which is a joke really, considering I’ve never actually killed someone-“ 

“Don’t,” Robert warns him, visibly losing his cool. 

Even Aaron isn’t sure where that one came from. He hadn’t intended to bring Katie into this, but once his mouth was open the words had poured from him, unforgivably. He feels like a traitor and he hates himself for it. He knows that was low of him, but he can’t take it back now. It’s out there. Said. 

And a small part of Aaron doesn’t regret it. 

“You reckon you’ve got it tough?” Robert asks, his eyes watering with rage. “I’ve been imagining all sorts - that you got yourself beat up or something.” 

Aaron could laugh at what a joke this all is. He’s managed to get beaten up over and over again. He can still feel the proof every time he moves, and if he isn’t careful, he knows the nightmare could start again the moment the guards backs are turned. 

But he can’t tell Robert any of that. He can’t. He loves him too much. Even if right now he’s starting to hate him, too. He can’t put that burden on Robert’s shoulders. He doesn’t want to be pitied and he doesn’t need rescuing. 

“And all the time you’re getting off your face?” Robert continues. 

“You’re overreacting,” Aaron cuts in, needing him to stop.

“What?” Robert splutters. 

“I told ya, it’s under control. I’m careful,” Aaron insists. 

“So careful that your fifteen year old sister sussed you out?” Robert retorts. “You keep taking that stuff, you’re gonna get caught.” 

Aaron wipes his mouth on his sleeve. He needs a drink of water. He feels sick again. 

“Nobody in here cares-,” Aaron tries, but Robert cuts him off. 

“ _I_ do. _I_ care.” 

_But you’re not in here_ , Aaron wants to say. _That’s the problem_. 

“You need to wizen up,” Robert tells him in his patronising voice. “This could affect your appeal. Me and Liv need you home.” 

Not as much as Aaron needs to _be_ home. Robert’s acting like he’s enjoying this. Like he’s getting some kick out of it. Does he think it’s a fucking holiday camp? That they watch telly and have a laugh and get their meals brought to them three times a day? 

“You think I don’t want that and all?!” Aaron demands. 

“Then stop doing stuff that could get you locked up in here for years!” 

“I can’t!” Aaron spits out through gritted teeth. “You’ve got no idea.” 

“What’re you taking?” Robert asks, moving on to the next point of interest. He changes his tactic so fast that Aaron feels like this really is an interrogation, like Robert's only here to squeeze the truth out of him so he can act all ashamed and disappointed. 

“It’s just… Spice” Aaron admits. 

“Just?” Robert repeats incredulously. “That stuff destroys people. Stop _now._ ” 

No _prison_ destroys people, Aaron thinks. Being alone and terrified of getting beaten up every day destroys people. The Spice _helps._

“I can’t!” Aaron counters. “I’ve… got commitments.” 

Robert does a double take. 

“Don’t tell me you’re dealing,” he breathes out. 

How can Robert even think that of him? As if he’d be that stupid. He’s just a carrier, that’s all. And in here, that’s nothing. In a way it’s a smart move. It’s keeping Jason from beating him half to death because he’s useful to him now. Isn’t that the sort of thing that Robert would do? Make connections? Try to raise his status a bit?

“No! Just… dropping stuff off from time to time,” Aaron explains vaguely.

“I don’t believe this,” Robert scoffs out, looking up at the ceiling, a smile of pure disbelief forming on his lips. 

“Don’t get difficult,” Aaron all but begs his husband. He can’t handle Robert kicking off, not today. 

“Aaron, this isn’t you-“ 

“Well it is now,” Aaron remarks darkly. He thinks maybe that’s the truth. Maybe prison has changed him. 

Clearly he isn’t the husband that Robert wants. He’s regretting everything, getting married, getting a place together. Aaron can see it in his eyes. Robert’s finally found an out and now he might well take it. 

He can’t hold Robert’s gaze. He has to look away. He wants to scream in his face that he warned him. He told him over and over how messed up he was, how hard he was to love. He put it all out there for Robert, he couldn’t have been more fucking honest about it. 

He’s always known this day would come. The day that Robert would see him for the pathetic, screwed up waste of space he really is and walk. He’s surprised it hasn’t happened already. Aaron knows from experience that nobody can put up with him for long. He drives everyone away. They all leave. 

“Seriously, never mind the risk of getting caught,” Robert tries. “You remember Holly?” 

It’s a stupid question. Of course he remembers Holly. How could he forget her?

“You keep doing that stuff, you’re gonna end up an addict. You’re already half way there,” Robert warns him. 

Aaron starts biting at his knuckles. He wants to hurt himself so badly. To punish himself. Deep down he knows Robert’s speaking the truth. His body is screaming out for a fix right now. It’s getting harder and harder to ignore. 

“I mean, think about it,” Robert says. “This is just another way of self harming. I thought you were done with all that?” 

It’s not self harm. It’s nothing like that. Aaron can’t believe how fucking ridiculous Robert’s being about all this. Can’t he see that the Spice makes him better? It gets him through. It’s all he has to keep him sane. He needs it to cope. 

“No, this is about me doing what I need to do to get by!” Aaron hisses, tears in his eyes, threatening to fall and shame him. “If you can’t hack that then maybe you should just do one?” 

“I’m trying to help yer-” 

“How?” Aaron demands, the truth slipping out in his fury. “How, Robert? I’m in here on my own, I have to look after _myself_.”

“Well just think about our future,” Robert begs, like it’s that simple, like it’s some sort of solution instead of a useless platitude. “You, me, and Liv.” 

It’s all he _has_ been thinking about. They’re the reason he hasn't given in and topped himself like his sick excuse for a father. 

But Robert clearly thinks he doesn’t care. He thinks that little of him. That he’s come in here and forgotten his family. That he’s _chosen_ to take the drugs for a thrill instead of turning to them so he can get a few hours of fucking sleep where the pain doesn’t make him want to vomit. 

Robert’s perfect little picture of domestic life is making him angry. It feels so far away. Like a dream, almost. What Aaron needs is reality. He needs to stay grounded and keep his head down. False hope isn’t going to get him anywhere. He’s not a kid anymore. 

“What use is that to me in here?” Aaron asks coldly, seeing the hurt on Robert’s face as he says the words but unable to stop himself. “Just leave me alone.” 

_There you go,_ Aaron thinks, as his chest pounds. _You’ve got what you wanted. You don’t have to worry about me anymore. You don’t have to waste your life on a messed up junkie._

He can’t sit there and look Robert’s expression any longer. It’s too soft, too open for this place. It’s too _real._ There’s genuine pain there, exhaustion, despair. It’s a fucking joke considering Robert gets to go home now, to freedom, to his own bed. What right does he have to look so broken when Aaron’s still holding it together after everything? 

Aaron gets to his feet, pushing his chair back with barely suppressed anger, and heads for the barred doors. Part of him wants to hear Robert calling him back. He wants to know that it’s all going to be okay. He wants Robert to get up and chase after him and hold him and reassure him.

But this is prison. Robert can’t call out or follow and Aaron can’t go back now, not with tears in his eyes and running down his cheeks. He’s ruined everything. Again. 

He keeps his posture as normal as possible until he knows he’s out of sight. That’s when he hunches over again and holds his own torso with a grimace, shuffling back to his cell.

**Author's Note:**

> I really really really hate this storyline because I want the boys to be happy, but here we are I guess. Fingers crossed this can all get sorted out soon. 
> 
> Say hi on twitter if you like! I'm @ClaudiaBoleyn xxx
> 
> Oh, and please leave me a comment if you enjoyed this! I get so happy when I get a comment!


End file.
